Tag Archive: Monster

I know I haven’t given much of an update about my working full-time now, just bittles here and there. But easily put, I really like my job. I like being back at work, talking to adults, using my brain for more than finding ways to entertain my preschooler, being forced to socialize again because even though I knew I had become a hermit it turns out that it was worse than I’d realized. I’m being a productive member of society. I’m not in any way saying that raising my son is not being productive, but I realize now that being ONLY at home with him and almost no social / support network (sorry but virtual socializing just doesn’t seem to count enough to prevent hermitizing but you guys did keep me from being completely insane) was really not good for me.

I’ve felt amazing since going back to work. Being physically active (I’m eating like a pig and losing weight from how much motoring around I’m doing) is great. I’m not feeling as tired any more. But the best part is that I’ve been pulled out of the heavy depression that I didn’t realize that I’d been in, building up over the last few years. Did you know you could suffer double depression? Last winter was horrible for me, but I didn’t realize the depression I suffered was only on top of a depression that had slowly built up over time.

Ok, I’m rambling, and on to the downer part of the post. You may remember that the only reason I was able to accept the position was that by some miracle in my small town, I was able to find a day home that was agency run AND did weekends. Finding child care here is nearly impossible for those that don’t work monday – friday 9-5. So, Dec 23rd at about 11pm as I’ve got everything ready for Christmas eve, I decided to go through Monsters back pack and read the journal S keeps for him about all day home stuff.

Inside is a letter of termination of care.

I re-read it about 10 times thinking that I was misunderstanding something. But I wasn’t. She’s got just as much problems with fertility/ pregnancy as all of us here and she’s having a really hard time in her pregnancy now (which she only opened up about a few weeks back). I was DEVASTATED. I cried all night and all Christmas eve. May sound like an over reaction, but it means so much more than just having to find a new day home.

Losing child care that I really like. The knowledge that I may very well not be able to find a replacement willing to do weekends. Not an exaggeration since I’ve spent three years here trying to find reliable childcare. The knowledge that if I can’t, I’ll have to quit my job. The only reason Hubby was able to take his promotion to assistant manager (which was a slight pay cut) was because I was now working so if I quit he’ll have to quit and go back into the field. That if I’m not working I’ll be drawn right back into that horrible place that I didn’t know I was in, stuck at home all the time not seeing anyone and looking at the constant reminder that I may be an at home mom but I can’t seem to bring any more children into this world to raise, rubbing my secondary infertility in my face. I’m terrified of going back there.

We’re just leaving out the obvious part about wanting her pregnancy to go well.

Can’t say that it helps that this is the fourth time I’ve lost child care and the fourth time it’s been to pregnancy. Just in case I needed that little extra face rub.

So I’m staring at the potential of everything we’ve worked for and achieved over the last few month flushing down the drain because it all depends on one thing that we have so little control of.

I’m more numb to it now. I’ve got less that two weeks to find a solution or lose my job.

So please, I’m asking you to all send your prayers, good thoughts, or anything more helpful than cheese string my way. Cross everything you’ve got that I can find someone willing/ able/ and responsible enough to take care of my son.

Monster’s 4th birthday is today. How in the hell did that happen? Where did 4 years go? That officially means that it’s been three years since my struggle to have another child began. No luck so far (needed Sherlock to tell us that, hey?).

And of course, like every mother I know, I can’t help but think “he’s getting so big!” But can you blame me? Does this look like a baby?

We had the traditional wake up this morning where I (and Hubby cause he happened to be home) bombarded in with a tuneless rendition of “Happy Birthday” (I’m well aware that I shouldn’t be giving up my day job any time soon and Hubby is worse) and cake. It’s the one day of the year you get to be woken up with cake. If it was for me I’d want pie, but you know kids. So breakfast is cake and PEZ and then I take him to the day home where she takes him out for a birthday breakfast involving what he called strawberry pizza (waffles?) and after work we come home to play on his brand new laptop from gramma and grampa and to figure out what “hot chicken and ketchup but it will cool down I promise” is for his dinner request. Turns out he wanted a roasted chicken. Add pie and eggnog on that and I think he’s getting pretty well spoiled today.

I’m also proud to announce (in the it really has absolutely nothing to do with me but I’m strangely proud anyways) that my chocobuddy Elphaba who was 93 weeks pregnant (or so it felt), just had her baby girl this morning. Little Alice at 9 lbs…ok, not too little. So our Monsters have the same birthday! I’m so happy for her I’m getting teary. To finally have her little girl in her arms just like I hope we all can have. I’m amazingly lucky to have my Monster and even though I want/ hope for more, I pray that one day we all get to (by one method or another) hold at least one child that we get to keep.

Ok, I have to say that in all honesty, everything is going well. I’ve been working (post-training) for three weeks now full-time and I do like my job. Most of the people I work with are pretty nice and Monster is happy with his day home and she’s managing taking him to and from school ok so far.

But I have to whine right now. I am feeling …a little sorry for myself? President of the pity party comity? Desirous of throwing a 5-year-old style “give me the bonbons” tantrum? Ya. Go team me. My life is good and I just want to sit down and cry my eyes out right now. Why? Because I miss my son.

We all know that I’m fortunate enough to not HAVE to work (although it makes life a LOT easier if I do). So we wanted me to work half-time to take the load off us financially. But I got more or less bullied into full-time. But full-time here is 9 shifts per two weeks, not ten (yay a bit) so that’s one more day I still get with Monster. But since we’re just opening and havent trained all the staff we need, I’m working overtime. 11 shifts in two weeks.

I’m not getting into the boring details, but this was supposed to be my weekend off and I agreed to work OT on sunday because they were desperate. I didn’t give a shit about the money, I just wanted to keep the “you scratch my back, I scratch yours” system in place with the scheduler (who is great to me). But then my one day off got taken by errands that needed to be done and Monster was too tired to stay out with me and I couldn’t find what I needed and ended up taking ten billion kagillion times longer than planned.

So I had no time with him today to just chill. I’ve been so burnt out trying to get used to being back at work and still doing everything I do at home (because Hubby is still gone a lot) that I’ve barely seen him over the last few weeks. I was REALLY looking forward to spending the weekend with him. I just keep thinking that we try so hard to have babies and right now I’m not even able to appreciate the one I have fully because I’ve been too dead and busy.

I know he’s having fun at Gramma’s but I WANT MY BOY! I’m so lonely for him right now.

I just have to keep reminding myself that I really do like my job and actually being productive outside of my own house and that it will get better soon. But when I get my boy back tomorrow, he’s not leaving my side until I have to drop him off at the day home the next day.

I’ll just deal with Darth Vader’s snoring. I’m a big girl, I can suck it up.

As The Red Lady’s way of laughing at me, she arrived on my way to the store to buy some HPT’s. No joke.

So, my life has taken a massive turn as of yesterday. I accepted a full-time job and I start on Monday. I found a day home to put Monster in, she’s going to try taking him to and from school and I’m really hoping that works out because he will be completely heart-broken if I have to pull him out all together. I’m already going to be taking him out of most if not all of his music classes and the nursery time at church for my MOPS and bible study where he gets to play with other kids his age. So if schools out, there will only be him and really little kids. Lets hope that the transporting to and from school works out ok.

I’m pretty nervous about going back full-time. I guess I’ll no longer be an at home mom, like we had planned for me until all our children were in elementary school. I wanted to work half-time, or casually…but they kept calling asking for me to fill various full-time lines and eventually I guess I let them bully me into taking one. On the up side, we could really use the extra money. On the really up side, if it doesn’t works with our lives or Monster doesn’t deal with this well…or if I hate the job…I can quit! We don’t need the money, it just brings on these fantasies of ripping out this awful Asthma Bane carpet for hardwood and having a savings account actually mean something (like not living pay check to pay check).

The horror is that I’m now going to be getting up at a minimum of 3 hours earlier than I’m used to and having to drag a very much non-morning child around with me. I’m going to be very tired until I can reprogram myself into a new schedule.

You think there is any chance that I’ll get pregnant now that I’m going back to work?

As I was cleaning up to stash stuff away to paint my room the other day, Monster comes up to me with his usual “what’s this?”. To be honest, I don’t usually look because if I say “you tell me” he already knows what he’s holding. So when I hear a bag crumpling and a bit of a sandy kinda noise to go along with the “I asked YOU!” I got a little curious. I turned around to find him attempting to dig into a bag of ashes. I didn’t want to traumatize him with “that’s your baby sister” but I couldn’t think of anything else to say so I just said “that’s Darla” as I nabbed the bag as fast as I could without making him feel like he was doing something bad and popped them back into the box they came in from the funeral home. Noted, DO NOT leave ashes within reach of a child unless you want to risk a mess.

This also counts for overly curious men that don’t ask before they try prying into things. I had a flashback of one of my friends nearly scattering my dad all over his moms kitchen when she was helping my glue shut the cross I was keeping him in. We got a good laugh at how traumatized he was about what he almost did (only prevented by both his mother and I lunging across the room to tear it out of his hands). Then again we were both a little fumigated on glue and covered in a dusting of ashes ourselves.

Note to anyone trying to transfer ashes independently: they stick like nobodies business and really burn if you get any in your eyes.

So back to the original topic, Darla. How old do you think Monster will have to be before I’ll be able to explain to him who she is…was? Without seriously freaking him out. And when he’d be able to actually grasp it.

I got a call from a tattoo artist (is that the right term? seems wong at the moment) today and he’s going to start on designing my baby feet for me based off a few images I sent him. He recommended the shoulder for what I was wanting but said that the hip is doable too (he had logic that I forgot right after he told me). So it’s between those two places now.

I’ve come to a conclusion that I can’t say I favor, but I’m shocked that the obviousness of the possibility hadn’t struck me yet.

I don’t think I’m sick at all.

I don’t think I’ve been fighting anything for the last month that had left me nearly bed ridden, with no appetite, and struggling to care about everything/ anything around me.

And yet I’m sure that if I had looked at myself objectively I’d have noticed, just like I’m sure that many of you have likely noticed. I think I’m depressed, and not in the “oh, that’s ass, but I’ll feel better tomorrow” kind of way. I’ve always been a positive person and I think any chipper that has been coming out of me at times is mearly formed from habit. I haven’t felt happy in a long time (other than my odd rubber room style excitedness for a few days last month). I really have nothing to complain about logically, but logic isn’t living here right now. Without distraction I swing from gut stabbing sad to numb and a lot of anger thrown in for variety. Who me? angry? What a shock, no one noticed.

But I’ve realized that I seem to be hating life in a pretty hard way lately. I want another child so badly and the loss of my 2nd and 3rd are still so strong. The idea of not giving my son a sibling is killing me since I think that growing up and only child is horrible and has some very negative consequences and I want to prevent that any way possible, plus I know that my family isn’t complete as it is. So I keep trying to get pregnant. And that in itself seems to be bringing me lower every day.

I don’t want to have sex, I don’t want to ask my husband to have sex with me all the time. I make it look like I want to have sex to try and make my husband feel like a man, and I want to want to have sex. I wish I enjoyed sex, but the only thing I get out of it is the comfort of physical proximity to my husband, someone actually touching me other than my son. I’ve always been a very physically affectionate person and I feel starved for physical comfort nowadays. I don’t have my friends around to snuggle up to, hold my hands, hug me (and I’m known to being almost overwhelming in the amount of hugs I like), kiss my cheeks. And my husband and I are not very physical anymore. He doesn’t snuggle me, he gives me a little kiss when he comes home or leaves, or if I ask him for one while he’s at the computer. He doesn’t hug me anymore unless I ask him for one.

I’m almost willing to completely give up on the idea of having another child simply because I’m so tired of begging him to sleep with me and being turned down. Every time I’m leading up to ovulation he’s not feeling well and I hate saying “I’m going to ovulate soon” and that’s a really last-ditch effort if I do…and I always end up having to say it. And still often nothing happens.

I know my husband loves me, but I couldn’t tell you if he was in love with me, I just don’t know that. I know he likes me as a person, he obviously thinks I’m a good person and a good mother. But I don’t interest him. And sadly I’m pretty sure that it’s not only mentally (we’ve never had anything in common and I’m not exactly in league with the intelligent conversationalist of the world. I’m a simple girl with simple wants and that’s how I’ve always been. I don’t see it a negative thing for me) but also physically. I know he used to love having sex with me. There was a time when that was the case. But every time I have to essentially beg for sex that I don’t want to have because the last thing I feel is wanted, it just makes me more and more bitter. I’ve had the discussion with him about it, and he tried to put in more effort for a short time, but now we’re back to nothing.

I can’t sleep because I can’t relax. I finally realized that. I retreat further and further into my books in desperate need of distraction from my thoughts that are an unclear mess of anger and tears. Last night I managed 1.5 hrs in which I woke up 3 times. During this afternoon I brought my son to be with me and just held on to him while he slept. I dozed in and out of sleep for 2 hours and then my son left and there was just this cold empty spot where he’d been. It’s seemed like such a bad, cheesy picture of how I felt. Cold and empty. And it’s everything in my power right now to care enough to keep things from being really crappy for Monster just because of how I’m feeling, and I realized I’m not doing a great job of it.

I feel like trying to have a child has killed the parts of me that I liked.

And just like that he was gone again. Not enough notice to even try and squeeze a quicky in there and I should be ovulating in the next couple days. I thought it was perfect time for him coming home (as far as TTC goes), but I didn’t think he’d be sent away so fast. He didn’t even get his three days he’d agreed on in order for them keeping him away for as long as they had. I normally am fine with him being gone, but I also usually have more than 15 minutes from “oh, crap” to him pulling out of the driveway. Not to mention that since Monster hadn’t seen him in three weeks, 2.5 days just didn’t cut it, and I’m sure it was breaking Hubby’s heart to see how upset he was about daddy going away again. At this moment I really hate Hubby’s boss (not as a person, but as a boss). Who gets notice at 7:30pm to drive 4 hours away (not including getting to the shop and getting the rig ready to go and meeting his partner) for a job the next morning?

The unexpected exit, the sick little boy crying for his daddy, and the fact that we were just waiting untill Monster went to bed to hop on that TTC wagon is all just topped with knowing that the chances of him coming back before I ovulate is pretty much nil, and that writes off another month. And if I sound just a little resentful it’s because I am. And I couldn’t help but cry about it as he drove away.

Hubby has been out of town for the last…since tuesday morning. It’s not that long. It’ll probably be another week. Normally I do fine with this. Me and Monster get into routine and relax. I can go all TV nazi (can’t remember who called me that…) and get him back into his books and toys and work on his school stuff. And I get the added benefit of being able to make the things that Hubby wont eat, like my home-made veggie soups. I love my veggie soups, mine, not everyone’s. Everyone tailors their cooking to themselves though and I just love my veggies…and I might put some ground beef into the one I make when this one runs out. Today I’m trying a cauliflower/ sweet potato that sounds gross…but my mom said she made one and it was awesome. I don’t go by recipes either, I’m a winger (probably explains why I don’t know spices for nothing…”paprica!..no?”)

I got side tracked

I’m tired

Normally I sleep fine by myself. I had to get used to him being gone a lot when he first started working in oil and gas and my crazy heat problem kinda adds to the niceness of not having a heating bag beside me (although for some reason he says that I’m the furnace…I think I’ll go turn that thermostat down again. It’s getting hot in here). And you knew, for the last three days I’ve finally had a proper s[pike in my temps! WTFrack!? Just when I’m thinking I should be getting a visit from said Red Lady I get post-ov temps? Don’t you tell me that I JUST ovulated. That really chaps my ass. Does this mean I may have another week and a half to wait still? And I gave up on my OPK’s around day 20 and I did have egg-white CM after that…I think once, and It was an out of the blue style, dry before and after, random event…my body is screwing with me. again. still.

I got side-tracked again

I’m tired

So since I haven’t been sleeping particularly well the last…couple nights, I decided to treat Monster into sleeping in Mommy’s bed (aka, mama’s been reading a book that creeps her out a bit at night and needs someone in bed to get to sleep better). Since I took him off dairy and soy he doesn’t snore like a…can’t think…something really noisy that you can hear on the entire upper floor, pick one. But he just kept playing with my hair and asking me questions and be all damn cute. I should have kicked him out but I figured he’d pass out soon enough (ended up being two hrs later). I was still up reading my book and wanted to finish so I stayed up till just after one (which is only late seeing as I was already super tired) and I thought I was safe for a sleep in. I wasn’t. 8:20 “I’m hungry”, “How about lying back down and sleeping a little longer first”, “NOOOAAAWWWWWWWWWW”. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I had stabbed him. “fine, breakfast”, “YAY!” I guess he was faking that stab.

Ever since last night I’ve been trotting along with the song “who’s afraid of the big bad cheese” stuck in my head. For most of my life I’ve pretty much had no point in which there wasn’t a song stuck in there and last night, this was it. “Big bad cheese”? Ya, I know, it’s supposed to be wolf, but Monster is now at the point where he changes the words of everything and I’m just glad it’s not “poop” for a change.

This all started because I was too lazy to pull out a story book so I decided to spout one off from mostly memory (because I can only mostly remember it). And every time it came to singing the song, he changed the words. I thought it was cute, so we kept singing it and flapping around and then I remember my dream…

I’m completely content in a noisy house of crazy monster children. Three or four of them, singing and dancing, very much like a big party but it’s made up of me and my children. I could gather them in a little circle and tell them stories while they participate in parts. The older ones can start telling stories of their own. We could all play together and never be lonely or bored. And when Daddy gets home he’d have a doggy-pile of monsters all trying to be the first to get a hug and a kiss. Then at the end of the day Hubby and I would fall into bed, exhausted but fulfilled, and smile at the thought of our crazy happy kids…then maybe pretend to make some more (because I don’t think I’d need more after four…but I’d still take them). I could have my strong-headed children that all took care of and loved each other very much and were super close and knew that family came first. The movie cheaper by the dozen makes a bit angry jealous.

I want it so bad. And knowing that my Monster should have 2 siblings and that they were taken away from us just kills me even more when I think about my dreams of the future.

Today is Monster’s third birthday. How can one day bring so many mixed feeling? I am so excited that he’s becoming such a big (well he’s always been pretty big..stalky, not so tall), sweet, well-mannered and affectionate monster. But on the other hand its freaking me out that I’m loosing time with my baby and it’s all going by to fast. I can’t help but be reminded that I may never have this chance again. I thought by now we’d be on our way to (or having) our third child but life had something else in store for us. So I’m excited, anxious and freaked out all because of one day. Every time I look at him I want to cry because it’s going too fast and (like I said) I may never get to have another chance to appreciate these little stages.

Of course that is giving me a bit of guilt because I know he can tell when I’m off so what do I do? I try to make it the funnest day ever.

I (and the hubby because he happened to be off work) woke him up with chocolate cake and candles singing happy birthday. Opened presents. Played pirates. Got dressed and went out to see Santa and Mrs. Claus (they actually live in our town most of the year but their sleigh is reserved for christmas eve/ day so they use and van with reindeer on top) where he gave Santa a hug and asked for 1 chocolate (greedy kid). Then off to “the farmer’s” aka McDonalds for lunch and back home for a sleigh ride, games and story time. Now he’s down for a nap and after comes more playing, stories, the arrival of my in-laws (whom I love waaaay too much so I’m more excited than anyone about), and then the decorating of Gingerbread Pirates! I made them with swords, hats and peg legs. Sound like a great day for a 3rd birthday? I hope so, and he’s having a great time.

But then why can’t I just enjoy it and stop thinking about what is missing? I keep feeling like he’s missing out on so much because I haven’t been able to give him sibling and it’s usually just me and him. And kids need other kids around.

I am so grateful to have my son and this is nothing compared to how painful it would be if I didn’t have him but all of us that have suffered miscarriages know that one child can’t replace the others no matther how much we love the one we have.